


Decepticon Set Ups

by Executortionist



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: More than Meets the Eye
Genre: Crack Pairing, M/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Executortionist/pseuds/Executortionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rewind lives through some crazy miracle, and is brought aboard the Weak Anthropic Principle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decepticon Set Ups

**Author's Note:**

> Well.... aaahhaha, I have no excuse for this one, but it happened anyway thanks to a prompt generator. I'm happy with it!
> 
> Now hush and enjoy!

1.

Floating in the great expanse of endless space, there was a small bot; nothing more than a torso- brain functional, but not conscious, with a spark nearly hanging from its casing. Arms, legs, hips- gone. He was lucky to have what he did, considering the circumstances.

With him floated a much larger body. One much more intact but much less alive. In fact; it wasn't alive at all. Having faced the brunt of the explosion, this larger being's spark had been extinguished almost immediately. And though this body was still missing most of his legs and an arm, it was still brought aboard the Weak Anthropic Principle along with the barely hanging on spark. 

Used for resources, the crew rebuilt the little bot. They were too kind not to, and what was one more autobot on board? If they were lucky, this one would be just as brain dead, just as clueless as the other.

So, two became one, and through wobbling consciousness and flickering memories the small autobot belonging to the designation Rewind came alive once more, and space was no longer as empty as it had been.

* * *

 2.

"And this is the lounge! Most of us, sans Spinister, the great loon, hang out here! And look, there's one of my elusive teammates now- Fulcrum! Hey, Fulcrum! He's the nicest here, a bit of a scaredy-cat, but who isn't these days? Fulcrum, this is- this is..?"

Misfire was a lot like Bluestreak- he could, and would, ramble. A lot. Rewind didn't mind; it filled the terrifying silence in his head, helped him ignore the empty aching of his spark. The feeling of cold abandonment and loneliness. Why hadn't they turned back to look?

Why hadn't they made sure there were no survivors?

And this new disgusting body. He could feel it- the echoes of being a phase-sixer. The echoes of what the metal once was. He could feel Overlord- that sticky, nagging feeling in the back of his fuel tank- that feeling of violation. He- what were they asking? His name...

His name... "Rewind." He was Rewind. Not Overlord, not anyone else. Ignore the echoes. Ignore... Ignore it. All of it. Think of home; think of Chromedome.

But no, that wouldn't do. With Chromedome came the abandonment and echoes of lost love, never to be re-established. Never to be seen again. The bitter ache of wanting to hate but not being able to.

"Great! I'm Msifire, in case you didn't catch that! And that's Fulcrum! Hey man, meet your new roommate! This is Rewind, according to Spinister he used to be one of those cute memory-stick bots! We couldn't salvage his T-Cog though, shame, really..." And with that, they were off again; Misfire filling the silence while Rewind followed- lost. Broken.

* * *

 3.

Weeks passed in a haze. Like a heavy fog had invaded his processor. He didn't speak much- hating the way his voice would crackle with static every time. There was something wrong with him...

...And he was tired of it. Where was old optimism? His old anything? He could still record- still did, on instinct. But where was he? Where was his spark? It felt as if it were still lost in that expanse, under the light of distant suns, with nothing but a dead body for company.

It was time to move on. To start that process of reconnecting with himself after so long. What would happen, he wondered, if he accepted these decepticons as his friends?

He had little choice in the matter. Fulcrum was a nervous roommate to have; constantly not knowing what to say or how to act, but he let Rewind know what had happened not long ago, with the DJD. They were outcasts of their faction, like he now was.

And it was time to start thinking. He wouldn't subject himself to these thoughts of hate and self-loathing any longer! If anything, he should be happy to be alive and with company that wasn't out to stab him in the back. He would live, and be happy. It's what Dominus Ambus would want- it's what Chromedome would want.

He would let go, but he wouldn't forget. He hadn't lived for millions of years only to fall victim to himself.

It was time to move on, like all things did.

* * *

 4.

It was late into the night cycle when Rewind heard it; pained moans. They were groggy sounding- as if the one emitting them were recharging. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such sounds. Chromedome used to get night terrors as well, and Rewind had always been there, soothing, loving unconditionally. They hadn't been sparkbonded, which now, in reflection, might have been a good thing. 

Because this way they were both alive. This way they could both move on- and maybe it was written in the stars, this path.

The pained moans came again, followed by a desperate gasp for air they didn't need. It would be a good time to investigate, Rewind thought. Everyone else was in recharge. No one was watching him like they did during the day cycles.

So, he followed the sound to the lowest part of the small ship- where the brig would be, if it hadn't been replaced with a large solid door. All that blocked Rewind from the pained mech behind it was a button. It seemed the crew didn't care much for security- or maybe they didn't intend to keep this one behind locked doors.

The button was pressed with certainty. The hitching vents of air paused briefly before a strangled sob broke through the darkness, and from the glow of his optics, he could see.

He could see Grimlock. A bot he'd never known, but had heard enough about- known as the leader of the dinobots, a vicious group of autobots whom only took orders from Optimus Prime himself.

But it was wrong, all very, very wrong. He was damaged-looking, with dents on his helm and shoulders, and the part of his back that Rewind could see was quite thoroughly crushed. Why had they hidden this? Why hadn't they healed the giant beast of a mech?

There was no time for questions, however. The poor dinobot was in the throes what appeared to be a night terror. Rewind was surprised he hadn't woken himself up with all that moaning and groaning and sobbing.

And Rewind couldn't help but jump into the familiar action of comforting one whom desperately needed it. Sitting carefully by Grimlock's head, ever aware that he could be crushed in an instant, he cooed and petted the helm gently.

Over and over, he murmured soft words of meaningless comfort, petting any part of the big bot he could reach- and eventually, Grimlock quieted down, and Rewind would have left if not for the large hands that had come up to grasp him to the large chest of the other.

He petted Grimlock's thumb, humming an old Cybertronian melody as he did so. Grimlock was probably used to sleeping with his fellow dinobots, and the loss of his group probably hit him hard. There was no judgement from Rewind, for he was also broken. Also lost and abandoned.

And the next morning, when Grimlock awoke, he carefully observed the small being that had come into his possession overnight. He nudged the small bot, and Rewind awoke.

"Muh... Me... Me Grimlock."

It was then that Rewind understood. Grimlock didn't remember- and for all intents and purposes, he had regressed into the mindless state he'd been in before the autobots. Before Optimus Prime.

And Rewind told himself, promised himself, that he would help Grimlock, and help himself in the process.

"My name is Rewind. It's incredible to meet you, Grimlock."

* * *

 5.

He was found a few joors later, by Crankcase- playing cards and showing Grimlock some old Cybertronian films from before the war, and his favourite architecture from Praxus. There was surprise at first, then acceptance, as Grimlock wasn't being fussy and nor was he being loud enough for everyone on that floor to hear. 

It helped, that they thought Rewind was just as broken as Grimlock. But he was getting better. He would get better.

So they were left to what they were doing, and once, when Rewind had needed to leave to refuel, Grimlock had held onto him tightly and wailed. It was heart wrenching.

"Me Grimlock want Rewind to stay! Rewind Grimlock friend! No leave, no leave!"

Rewind had probably been the first to spend time with the dinobot in ages. He cooed, stroking the large fingers around him in a calming action. Crankcase was back, watching, cautiously waiting. 

And was clearly surprised when Grimlock calmed and let him go. "Don't worry Grimlock, I'll be back before you know it!" It was cheery; like the old Rewind. It felt surprisingly good.

With a last pat, Rewind left the cell, Crankcase hot on his heels with questions he couldn't answer. Didn't want to answer- so he didn't. And he came back with two energon cubes, one clearly larger than the other. One clearly for Grimlock. It would help his self-repair systems and hopefully with enough, it would jog his memories as well.

Grimlock was pleased, scooping him up and retracting his face mask with no problem. The smile that laid behind it was as brilliant as ten suns, and Rewind found himself revealing his own, much smaller smile.

They drank together. Rewind let Grimlock know where he was, what had happened over the span of the war, and although Grimlock didn't say much, he listened intently and watched in excitement when Rewind would show him things of interest and planets he'd been to aboard the Lost Light. He missed his collection of trinkets.

* * *

 6.

Soon enough, Grimlock was mostly healed and following Rewind wherever he went; from the wash racks to the refueling tank to the lounge, and the others noticed. They were wary, not that Rewind cared. He was healing; he'd found a purpose that didn't involve thinking of 'what ifs' and 'what had beens'. He was happy, and for the most part, he was himself again.

Grimlock, as well, started speaking more completely. Though it was still butchered, his way of speech soon started to make more sense to others, and though he still didn't talk much, he was much better.

His memories, however, didn't return. 

And there was something about him, something about the blatant show of affection towards Rewind that had everyone on edge. He was protective and would fidget anxiously without the small bot in his sights. Misfire and Fulcrum were the most fearful, not for themselves, but for Rewind.

He was so small, barely coming up to Grimlock's thigh, and yet it still persisted. Careful Grimlock, Unconditional Rewind. Sometimes, it was as if the world didn't exist beyond those two- as if they had no optics for anyone but each other.

But Rewind was still recovering from the loss of Chromedome, and Grimlock knew. Grimlock knew everything about the small bot, and let him be affectionate and sad and as he was. Grimlock was, for lack of better words, exactly what Rewind needed, and vise versa.

So came a day when they were alone in Grimlock's quarters, playing a game with blocks when it happened; Grimlock, unable to help himself or his feelings, had scooped Rewind up, knocking their game over, and had nuzzled and kissed at the small bot, rumbling deep inside his chest as he did so- it sounded like purring.

With little hesitation, Rewind had pet the face of Grimlock and had pecked him with his own hidden lips, and their fate was sealed; with each other.

The change was almost instantaneous and noticeable to all; Rewind was happier, even towards the ever paranoid Spinister, and Grimlock stood straighter, as if he had something to prove to Rewind. It was around this time, that Grimlock started to form full and for the most part correct sentences.

They, once two and now nearly one, changed the Weak Anthropic Principle. The mood was lighter with the childish and fun antics of both Grimlock and Rewind, and more often then not, a little red light would flicker on, focused on Grimlock when Rewind thought no one was looking, and life was good.


End file.
